Heat
by A39bridge
Summary: Freddie's not allergic to strawberries after all, and Sam's less clueless than she seems.


The sidewalk outside of Carly's apartment building seemed to be melting in the heat of the late afternoon; the few people out on the streets moved drowsily, their clothes and hair damp from sweat. It was one of the hottest days on record in Seattle, the thermometer climbing up to 99. Sam Puckett was immune to many things- the effects of prunes on the digestive tract, lectures from authority figures, and chicken pox, to name a few- but the midsummer heat was not one of them.

"Why did Carly kick us out of her apartment again?" Sam whined before flopping down on the sidewalk next to Freddie, spread-eagle.

Freddie rolled his eyes. "For some reason, I think she wanted to be alone with her date."

"Ugh, you're going to make me barf, Freddifer," Sam said, rolling around on the sidewalk. "It's too damn hot to leave us out in the heat to perish-" Sam stopped mid-rant, popping up from her prone position on the sidewalk. "Ice cream."

Freddie looked up at this truly rare sight in Seattle. Ice cream was a treat created specifically for the hot and bothered, something Seattleans typically weren't due to the infamously overcast and rainy climate. Today, it appeared a local stand (Lupi's) had sent out a shabby and little used ice-cream cart to cool the masses.

By the time Freddie had realized the rare treat in their midst, Sam was halfway across the street. "Come on, Freddie, you think this ice-cream's going to pay for itself?" Sam shouted, not slowing down.

"Two strawberry cones, please," Sam said to the vendor as Freddie was walking up.

"But-" Freddie began to protest.

"I know you're not allergic to strawberries, so don't even try to play that card," Sam said, smirking at him. "I sneaked one in your sandwich the other day."

"Sam!" Freddie exclaimed, nearly yanking his cash back out of the vendor's hand in his huffiness. The rather old (and hairy) gentleman just shook his head in amusement at the two teenagers. "That's-"

"Stupid, I know," Sam said, licking the already melting ice-cream off her cone. "But I've realized that putting things you're 'allergic' to on your food is quite a rush."

Not wanting to know if Sam was kidding or not, Freddie just began to eat his ice cream as the two walked in silence.

"So this is your first strawberry ice-cream?" Sam said with a big and slightly sticky grin, her cone already halfway eaten.

"Yes," Freddie said with a grimace, "and probably my last."

Sam's jaw dropped. "Don't tell me you don't like strawberry ice cream, Freddork."

"It's just so-"

"Delicious!" Sam shouted, throwing her hands and her ice-cream into the air. The half-eaten cone went flying and landed, of course, face down in the middle of some unfortunate person's yard. Freddie choked back a laugh as Sam scowled down at her ruined ice cream. Shrugging, she just grabbed Freddie's out of his hands and began munching at the cone. Freddie couldn't even bring himself to be mad; that strawberry ice cream was downright disgusting.

p-p-p

The sun was setting as they came up upon the entrance to Ridgeway High, and the moon had already shown itself on the darker horizon. Freddie wondered briefly for how long and how far they had walked before he realized that it didn't matter. Carly had promised to text both of them when her date was finished, and Mrs. Benson was working nights at the hospital this week.

It had been an unexpectedly nice evening, Freddie mused. He had been dreading the uncontrollability of both Sam and the hot weather; Sam had managed to behave herself as much as she was capable, and the setting sun caused the temperature to drop at least ten degrees.

"So what do you think of Carly's date?" Sam asked, breaking Freddie's reverie. He grinned when he saw the ring of sticky strawberry ice cream remnants around her mouth.

"Oh, Benny, yeah," Freddie said with a wave of the hand. "He's alright. He kept me company in Gerard's class freshman year."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "He's certainly better than the last few."

"Definitely." They had stopped in front of the school sign in an unsaid agreement to turn back around. Freddie looked over at Sam, the sun's last blaze of glory catching the gold in her hair. She was looking very fixedly at her shoes, and Freddie had the oddest sensation of wanting to take his thumb and smooth the crease that had formed at the place between her eyes. He shook his head; something about that ice cream was messing with him, apparently.

"Do you still wish she would date you?" Sam said suddenly and in a rush.

Freddie looked back over in surprise- Sam had stopped using that particular cut-down at the end of freshman year. Before he let out a quip in return, he noticed her fixed expression had not changed. She was serious.

"Well, I guess the short answer is no," Freddie said with a sigh. Sam's face held the same expression, but he saw something flit in her eyes for a moment. "I just sort of, well, lost that flame... I guess." He put his hand to the back of his neck. There was no way to explain to Sam how his feelings for Carly had left him in a rush one day, like a candle put out in the night or water let down the drain. Sam was silent, and all Freddie could see was hair glowing in the fading sunlight.

"You had your chances, I guess," Sam said at last with a faint smile. She still didn't meet Freddie's gaze as they began the trek back to Carly's apartment.

p-p-p

They walked and walked in silence, then walked and walked in conversation as the twilight faded into darkness. Freddie, at one point during the return walk, fell on the sidewalk in tears laughing so hard. Sam was in a little better condition, just choosing to lean against a building for support.

They ended up, of course, at the end of the fire escape; going to the lobby meant facing the ever cantankerous Lewbert, and neither of them wanted to venture upstairs without receiving that ever-important text from Carly, so the fire escape was really the only viable option.

Sam took the stairs two at a time for the first three flights of stairs, then stopped (huffing and panting) to wait on Freddie when she reached the sixth floor. He just smiled and shook his head when he saw her collapsed on the landing. "Come on, eager beaver," he said, nudging her leg with his foot.

"Eager beaver?" Sam sat up, her hair frizzy and wild from the humidity and exercise. "What are we, nine?" Freddie just rolled her eyes and helped her to her feet.

They reached the eighth floor more or less together, Sam still lagging behind from her boost of energy. Over the years, Freddie had, for all intents and purposes, claimed the fire escape as his own. It was free of the cleaning product smell that so permeated his apartment, his own space complete with WiFi (courtesy of the router in 8C), two folding lawn chairs, and a stereo for his PearPod. It was, Freddie figured, the closest he would ever come to a man cave or bachelor pad.

An unusually strong night breeze stirred the warm air, and Sam's hair whipped around her face, much to her annoyance. Freddie could feel the tips of his ears turning colors as he recalled their last night on the fire escape, but there could be no thinking of that- Freddie knew dangerous territory when he saw it. Sam collapsed in a lawn chair as Freddie hooked up his PearPod and put it on shuffle.

"Carly still hasn't texted you, huh?" Freddie inquired as he took his place next to Sam.

"Nope," she responded as she stretched her legs out on the railing. "I'm starting to get a little worried, it's already 10:00."

Freddie snorted. "No worries there, I think. Spencer was the one cooking them dinner, after all."

Sam grinned. "That's true. But who leaves the house on a five hour date, much less stays in?"

Freddie shrugged, avoiding the uncomfortable thought that Sam had been in his presence for five hours without causing him physical harm (yet). "I just hope that's a good sign, you know?"

"Yeah."

The silence stagnated with the still very warm night air. Freddie looked over at Sam, who was grinning silently up at the sky, her eyes twinkling.

Freddie thought he was going to be sick his stomach was turning so many flips. There must have been something horribly wrong with that ice cream.

"Hey," Sam said as she nudged his shoe with her Converse-d foot. "What's the problem, anyway? You look like your goldfish just died."

Freddie laughed. He looked back over at Sam, really looked- her blonde hair was tangled and frizzed, her clothes layered and mismatched in an odd manner (as usual), her blue eyes smiling at him, and her balled up hand reminding him that she could still beat the shit out of him if she felt like it. She was wonderful. "Nothing, absolutely nothing at all," he said before looking up at the night sky, grinning like a maniac.

Maybe strawberry ice cream wasn't so horrible after all.

p-p-p

Carly never had the heart to tell Freddie that she had texted Sam at quarter 'til eight, only to be told that "if anyone asks, I got this at 10:15."

A/N- Just a little one shot idea that popped into my head and wouldn't go away.

Inspiration drawn (partially) from that ol'fanfic favorite "Accidentally in Love."

_Melting under blue skies, belting out, sunlight shimmering love!_

_Oh baby, I surrender to the strawberry ice cream never ever end of all this love._


End file.
